Total pages in book: 76
Estimated words: 73506 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 368(@200wpm)___ 294(@250wpm)___ 245(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 73506 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 368(@200wpm)___ 294(@250wpm)___ 245(@300wpm)
“He’s a client of mine. I own a massage studio.”
“Do you?” Marialena asks, as the others begin to trickle in. “Oh my God, I need a massage so bad. Would you be able to loosen my shoulders? I’ve had them up around my eyebrows from stress but I so need to chill.”
I smile. “Of course. All we need is a flat table and some privacy.”
“And I get smacked for dirty talk,” Mario mutters, joining us. Adriano snorts.
“Shiiittt,” Mario says, gesturing to my necklace. “Did Ricco give you that?”
Okay, I am so over these questions.
“Oh, this?” I say, waving my hand. “Nah, I found this at a yard sale.”
Marialena spits out her wine and Mario grins. “I like her,” he says, though I have no idea who he’s talking to. The room?
“I like you, too, even if you’re nosy as hell,” I say, finishing up my wine and handing my glass to Adriano. “I’ll have another, please.”
Where. Is. Ricco?
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
THE WARNING
Ricco
“Jesus.”
I seriously should’ve hit Adriano harder. Of all the lowdown, underhanded, stupid fucking shit he could’ve done, tricking me into coming down here then locking the door so that they could “test” Dani or whatever the fuck was the absolute worst.
I pace the den, try the locks, then pound on the door when that doesn’t work. My phone, of course, is back in the dining room, and every window is locked.
What the fuck are they playing at? I’m going to fucking kill him.
I trust them. Dani’s safe, and I know this, but I do not like this method of questioning, or testing, or whatever the fuck they’re doing.
Finally, after ten minutes of trying everything on the lock, I manage to pick it with a letter opener I find at the bottom of a drawer. Fuming, I compose myself and head straight to the dining room.
When I enter, Dani’s got a glass of wine in hand, her eyes are shining and a bit glassy, and she’s clearly having the time of her life telling them a story about her sister’s escapades. Asshole Adriano’s actually grinning, Mario’s wiping tears from his eyes, and Marialena’s pouring more wine into Dani’s glass.
“Ricco, there you are,” Adriano says.
“Sorry, I got held up,” I say, pretending like I’m not going to beat the fucking shit out of him when I get him alone later. “What’d I miss?”
“I was telling them earlier about how you booked every time slot,” Dani says, her voice a bit louder than usual.
I slide up next to her and take her hand in mine. “Sorry about that,” I whisper to her.
“It’s not your fault. Adriano tricked you so he could question me. But I handled it.”
Of course she fucking did, and she’s no fool, either.
I nuzzle her ear. “I’m going to fucking kill him.”
She grimaces, likely not knowing if I’m exaggerating. “Isn’t that against the law?”
“I don’t fucking care about the law.”
“You could maybe, like, beat him up just a little,” she finally concedes.
I grunt. I could.
I could also kill him.
Sergio might get mad about that, though.
Sergio.
Jesus. Adriano’s under Sergio’s leadership and obedient to him. Unlike me, Adriano does anything Sergio asks. If Sergio asked him to cut off his left nut and batter fry it, he would.
Then I know. Sergio fucking put him up to this.
“Excuse me,” I say, standing up and heading to the sideboard so I can get my phone. I step out of the room to see ten texts on my screen.
Jesus.
I read Sergio’s first.
She passed. Good job. I’ll leave you alone now.
Gah-fucking-reat. She passed. Woohoo.
I stifle the need to throw something again. I’ve learned to mask my anger and harness it. A father with a hair-trigger temper isn’t something that’s compatible with preschoolers.
I would know.
Another text, this one from Adriano.
Sergio made me do it. I’m sorry, bro. I’ll willingly let you kick my ass.
There’s no fun if there’s no fight, though. And fine, I get it.
I scowl.
Still gonna kick your fucking ass.
Adriano, sitting at the table, flinches when I reenter the room. He’s tough as nails and brutal in a fight, but not if he won’t defend himself.
“And Ricco was so good, helping me pick out the right spot for a kiosk in town with Rosa, because I know nothing about that stuff,” Marialena says, finishing a story she’s telling Dani.
Dani drinks another glass of wine. “But I thought you said that was two months ago?”
“It was,” Marialena says.
Dani shakes her head. “But Ricco was still here in Tuscany two months ago.”
Marialena laughs. “No, he wasn’t. He was—”
She catches my eyes and freezes, pausing mid-sentence. “Oh, God, how could I forget. Of course he was! We were Facetiming, not talking in person.” Marialena downs an entire glass of wine in a few gulps.
I breathe a sigh of relief when Dani laughs. She’s a little tipsy, no question. For once, I hope that will work in my favor.